


(You Get Me) Closer to God

by Riachinko



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Based on OBC, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mile High Club, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riachinko/pseuds/Riachinko
Summary: On their flight back home, Arnold persuades Kevin to de-stress with him and they join the Mile High Club.





	(You Get Me) Closer to God

**Author's Note:**

> No regreettttttssss! Thanks to [queenallyababwa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/queenallyababwa/) for the Mile High Club idea, it was really A+

The flight home with Arnold is worse than the flight to Uganda.

He's fidgety, absolutely will _not_ sit still, and the fact that the plane itself isn't full at all grates on Kevin's nerves. Still, he holds his tongue and respects that Arnold wants to sit in his assigned spot rather than claim an empty row for himself.

It's annoying, though, to witness his friend and mission partner going stir crazy. It's not all that unusual, but this particular occurrence is strange in ways new to Kevin. Like every time a female flight attendant passes down the aisle, Kevin catches Arnold staring at her backside. His lips thin when she bends to assist a passenger.

The in-flight movie is some raunchy teen comedy - Kevin doesn't know the title, it didn't come out in Uganda - and it's not even on their own screens, but he can catch glimpses of it on the screens in the row ahead of them. He could hear a whistle in Arnold’s heavy nose-breathing when one of the women in the movie started to take her top off, and he knows Arnold saw two of the female characters making out, because he whimpered shrilly as it was happening.

“D’you miss Nabulungi?” Kevin says softly, and Arnold's head snaps to the side.

“Huh?” he replies, too loud, and Kevin winces.

“You're awfully antsy. I asked if you're missing Nabulungi..?”

Kevin adjusts his seat so that he's reclining as much as he's able. It's getting late - the tv screen on the plane says 22:14, and Early To Bed is something that Kevin Price has never turned his back on.

“Uhhhhhh...uh huh, yeah, of course I miss-- what are you implying?”

“Cunningham, buddy. You're going crazy,” Kevin whispers finally with exasperation. “ _Girl_ crazy.”

Arnold slouches in his seat, runs his hands down the sides of his face and exhales forcefully in a vague attempt to regain his composure. He groans.

“Before we left,” he starts quietly, eyes darting to the left of their aisle to make sure their fellow Elders were asleep or otherwise not paying attention to them, “w-we…t-talked about, um, m-marriage..?”

He looks positively wrecked at the admission. “I like her, Kevin,” he says simply.

And Kevin doesn't see any problem with that. He doesn't understand why charismatic, outgoing, soft-hearted Arnold Cunningham has an issue with having found a nice young girl to settle down with.

“So?”

“So I don't think I'm ready for that, Kevin!” Arnold spits in reply, too loud again, and Kevin leans in close to shush him.

“I-- I've never even kissed another girl before!” Arnold rambles, “And when we get home we're going to be able to meet girls who don't have AIDs…and I-- What if she's not The One?”

“Well Cunningham, we're 21 now. Heavenly Father expects us to find a wife and continue our family names.” He ignores Arnold's concern about AIDs; he didn't think Nabulungi was afflicted anyway. “If you like Nabulungi, then I think that's great!”

Arnold looks unsure. He gnaws at his lower lip. “Really?”

“Well sure!”

Kevin's begun to unwrap his complimentary felt blanket from its plastic wrapping; turns down the dimmer light above his head. Arnold stares, and Kevin is highly uncomfortable, but he won't be, just as soon as his eyes are closed…

And then Arnold leans in so that they're shoulder to shoulder and he whispers, “I haven't jerked off in for _ever_..!”

Kevin's eyes fly open; he jumps slightly in his seat. He looks around the plane, but thankfully no one is looking at them. Their Mormon friends have begun to turn in for the night - with their lights off or dimmed - and the strangers on the plane are focused on their TV screens or books or video games.

“Wh-why are you telling me this!?”

“You're my best friend,” Arnold hisses, “I thought we could talk about stuff like this.”

“I…I guess. What, uh, do you want me to say?”

“Do you think it's right to do it now? If I'm having all sorts of thoughts about… _sex_?”

“Well,” Kevin hums, face getting ever-so-slightly heated. “It's getting late. Why don't you go to sleep and then you won't be having these kinds of temptations.”

He turns over in his seat to put an end to the conversation, pulls the thin blanket up to his shoulders.

Arnold fidgets around in place, reclining his seat and sitting it back up straight. Kevin shuts his eyes and tries to focus on the black nothingness behind his eyelids, but still he can hear Arnold squirming around, can feel the shifting of the cushions and Arnold moving to rest his chin on his left arm, and then in his right palm. When Kevin thinks he's finally going to snap, Arnold stills and there are several moments of blissful silence on the plane.

But then there's that familiar squirming and Kevin can feel Arnold's body heat.

“ _I don't even know how to have sex_ ,” Arnold whispers at him. “What if I disappoint Nabulungi once we're married?”

Kevin wills himself to keep his eyes closed, though his brow is furrowed and even someone as oblivious as Arnold must see that he's annoyed.

“Don't think that far ahead.”

Silence.

“...Kevin, are you ever jealous of people who get to fool around and, y’know, experiment without being pressured by the-- by their families?”

Kevin looks out the window, he can see the faintest of dark grey clouds at the wing of the plane, but it's too dark to really see anything but his own glum reflection. He knows what Arnold was going to say before he corrected himself: pressure from the church, pressure from Heavenly Father. Pressure from their fellow Elders.

Had he been jealous? Maybe, sometimes.

“What do you mean?” he replies instead, and when he moves just slightly, he can see Arnold in the window, frowning behind him.

“ _You_ know…”

Kevin looks at him, at those full, pink lips that are too close because Arnold doesn't have boundaries.

“Even Luke Skywalker kissed his sister, and he was an intergalactic hero.”

Kevin smiles, brows quirking with cynicism, “You're saying you want to kiss your sister?”

Arnold laughs, tossing a hand up to his mouth to try to stifle himself from making too much noise.

“Nooo! I just mean, like…” He looks at his friend, and then quickly to the floor. “I don't know what I mean.”

Several feet to the left of Arnold, in the middle aisle, a man raises from his seat and makes his way several rows ahead of them to one of the economy class bathroom stalls. Arnold watches with disinterest, trying to recover the conversation he and Kevin had been having, when not a moment later, Elder McKinley gets up out of his seat as well, and taps on the very door that the stranger had just disappeared behind.

Arnold is about to tell McKinley that the stall is occupied, when it opens, and the man pulls him inside.

Arnold's face positively lights up, “Whaaaaaat!” he gasps. He elbows Kevin - hard - and looks at him with a slack-jawed grin. “Did you see Elder McKinley--”

“Yep.”

Kevin's eyebrows couldn't be sitting higher on his forehead; his eyes are wide, his cheeks are flushed a healthy red.

“D’you think they're gonna--” Arnold whispers sharply, and Kevin cuts him off before he can say anymore.

“Probably.”

“Wow!” Arnold slumps back in his seat, his own face slightly pinkened and in a much better humour than just minutes prior. “You think you know a guy, huh!? See, that's what I'm talking about. We're in the prime of our life! We've accomplished great things!”

Arnold finally turns the light out above his head, and their section is in complete darkness. He wiggles around, puts the arms of the spare seat between them up so that he's able to more comfortably make his way over to Kevin, his friend simply watching, mortified.

“Kevin! This is what I _mean_! We _deserve_ to mess around a little bit. Elder McKinley had more resolve than any of us two years ago, and even he's letting loose now.”

Kevin wrinkles his nose. “I don't think we should make any hasty actions just because someone else is doing something.”

Arnold grins and pulls his legs up underneath him so that he's on his knees. “Come onnn,” he drawls cheerily, still trying to keep his voice down. He pokes Kevin's side, and Kevin jumps, hissing angrily in response.

“Come on, Kev, cut loose with me,” he pokes Kevin's neck, and it tickles as Kevin flinches and swats at Arnold's hand, and Arnold grabs at Kevin's armpit and that tickles, too.

They're a tangle of limbs, Kevin furiously whispering at Arnold to stop the besiegement, and finally Kevin kicks the seat in front of him accidentally and he's so embarrassed when the woman in front of him turns around and glares at him with a toxic combination of confusion and annoyance.

“I-- am _so_ sorry! Sorry!” Kevin gasps, and all the while Arnold is tittering away impishly, hand over his mouth.

Kevin’s eyes are wide with fury and he moves to jokingly choke Arnold, but misses, and the two tumble backwards onto the cushions with Kevin awkwardly on top, Arnold’s head hanging off the seat into the aisle.

And Arnold bends up as much as he can with Kevin's weight on him, and connects their lips in a chaste kiss.

The most ridiculous thing is that Kevin doesn't feel half bad about it.

It's short-lived though, as soon they can hear the vacuum-like crack of the bathroom stall opening, and out skulks Elder McKinley, alone, and Kevin and Arnold snap up to sit in their seats properly; Kevin nearly hyperventilating, pressed as closely to the window as he can get.

Arnold pretends to be sleeping, but he can see the business-suited stranger through slitted eyes, leaving the bathroom a minute later and casually taking his seat.

His cheeks are burning now. Arnold really _is_ jealous. He scratches his head, rubbing his hand through thick dark curls while he thinks.

His eyes dart over to Kevin.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

Kevin exhales shakily. “No.”

Arnold leans back against his seat, taking deep, calming breaths. “Do you wanna do that again?”

“N-no!” Kevin snaps. “No, thank you.”

He pulls the blanket up to his shoulders once again; is tempted to just pull it up over his head, try to hide completely away from the world. But he can’t hide from himself the fact that his heart is racing, and it’s not just because he broke Rule 76. He’s broken so many rules over these past two years that that’s the least of his worries now.

He pretends that he _doesn’t_ want to know what’s on Arnold’s mind, that he doesn’t feel the familiar stirring of arousal that he’d always been told not to act on. But he hasn’t jerked off in forever, either, and he could at least maybe live with himself doing _that_.

Kevin unfastens his seatbelt, sets the blanket aside and begins to push himself up out of his seat, but Arnold’s eyes are on him like a hawk, and he sits Kevin back down with a hand on his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Arnold whispers.

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” Kevin replies, annoyed and exhausted. “Will you let me go already?”

As though he’d been expecting a different answer, Arnold rolls his eyes and pulls his legs in as close to the middle seat as he can to let his friend pass. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much coffee,” he mumbles.

But there’s no mistaking what he sees, now that Kevin doesn’t have the coverage of the airline blanket. It doesn’t help that it’s practically pushed against Arnold’s face as Kevin shuffles sideways to get into the main aisle. There’s no mistaking the silhouette of an erection pressed against those well-fitting black slacks.

And Arnold grabs Kevin’s wrist, pulls him down close so that he’s breathing hot into Kevin’s ear, “You were going to go _masturbate_..!”

Kevin straightens up and rolls his shoulders. He knows he’s frowning; has his lips tight and can tell he’s scrunching his nose with disgust. He can only guess what’s crossing through his eyes though: shame, fear, confusion. Lust?

In a spontaneous act of rebellion - something that was becoming more and more frequent - Kevin stares into Arnold’s eyes and prays that his message comes across loud and clear. He nods his head quickly in the direction of the bathroom stall and makes his way there alone. It’s unoccupied, and he enters, shooting one final, serious look at his companion.

And Arnold is honestly impressed. Surprised, and nervous as hell. When he’d boarded the plane home this afternoon, he’d never had intentions of propositioning his best friend...and now he was afraid of letting down Nabulungi _and_ the Great Elder Kevin Price.

He waits a minute; watches someone go into the bathroom opposite Kevin’s. When he gets up, the aisle seems claustrophobic; he stumbles his way towards the head of the plane, breathes deeply in and out, and is about to knock on the bathroom door.

There’s a woman staring right at him, a few seats away. He stares back at her, and it’s like they’re trapped in an awkward game of Chicken. He drums his fingers against the sides of his legs, smiles, but ultimately it doesn’t seem like the woman is going to look away, and he’s beginning to lose his nerve.

But he mans up and is about to knock on the door once more, when Poptarts speaks from the middle row closest to the stalls. “It’s occupied, Elder,” he says, readjusting the blanket on his knees.

And then there’s another person line up behind him, and the man who went into the opposite bathroom comes out, and Arnold squeals, and he hopes it was just in his head. He’s lost his chance, and it feels like suddenly the entire plane is watching him, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from running down the aisle back to his seat.

“I, uh, decided I don’t have to go that bad,” he says to the person behind him, and makes his way as casually as he can back to his place in row 32.

He sits, focusing on regulating his breath; pulls Kevin’s blanket up over him and waits for the inevitable return of his inevitably angry friend.

Sure enough, once Kevin returns to their row several minutes later, he doesn’t look happy. He shuffles past Arnold - who again tries to keep his legs out of the way - and takes his seat next to the window, facing forward, eyes burning holes into the back of the seat in front of him.

Arnold sucks on his lower lip, opens his mouth to apologize, but it’s just then that Kevin turns to him.

“ _Where were you?_ ”

“There was a line...people were watching me, I couldn’t--!”

Kevin doesn’t respond to his excuse, and the tension between them feels tangible. They’ve both come a long way in two years: fight less, are more comfortable with the close quarters they’ve found themselves in. But Kevin still lacks empathy, and Arnold still doesn’t quite know how to comfort people without being overbearing, and he doesn’t know what Kevin wants him to do.

So without thinking about it too much, he scooches over closer to his friend and throws his arms around Kevin gracelessly - there isn’t much room to move, after all.

“Sorry, best friend,” Arnold coos softly against Kevin’s cheek, and to his credit, although his body stiffens, Kevin doesn’t act out against the well-intentioned assault.

“I didn’t mean to be...you know, like _that_ ,” Arnold places a peck to Kevin’s jawline. “I know I’m overbearing and loud and I...I just wanted to de-stress, you know? To have some fun before we’re back in the real world with our parents and Mission Control.”

Arnold nuzzles his face into Kevin’s neck and rests there, and the curls of his dark hair tickles at Kevin’s chin. Truth be told, he’s even enjoying the closeness. He knows exactly what Arnold means, and even if he can’t bring himself to tell him it’s alright, he at least says, “I know.”

He’s still half hard. God, he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. It’s just the lingering thought of what could have happened in that bathroom stall...

“Heavenly Father wants us to save sex for marriage, so I just thought, i-it’s not like you and _I_ can get married, so maybe it’d be okay if we…”

Kevin cuts Arnold short, “Oh, w-we can. While we were gone, they legalised same-sex marriage in Utah.”

“Oh,” Arnold mumbles, deflated. “Well, I don’t want to _marry_ you.”

And then Kevin surprises himself by taking Arnold’s left hand and settling it in his lap, against his burgeoning erection; pressing it to him firmly, holding Arnold’s hand in his own.

Arnold gasps and stutters hotly against his friend, giggles nervously as quietly as he can and tries to pull away on instinct, but when he can’t, he finds his body slacking and his fingers twitching against the fabric of Kevin’s pants of their own volition.

“Blanket, blanket!” Kevin hisses under his breath - but he doesn’t sound angry - and Arnold shifts his weight to pull the felt blanket out from under him.

He lays it over Kevin’s chest and it falls to just above his knees. It’s dark enough and quiet enough on the plane that neither of them think they’ll be caught; it’s more their own awkwardness and inexperience that’s holding them back now.

Arnold’s hand is guided slowly up and down, against the tent in Kevin’s pants, and he stares, open-mouthed at at the ambiguous movements underneath the blanket, and all the while Kevin is focused on his friend’s mouth; those pink, full lips glossy with saliva...He can’t believe they look appealing now.

Only a short moment passes before Kevin finally bows his head to whisper in Arnold’s ear, “There’s another bathroom behind us. D’you want to try that one?”

And Arnold’s dark chocolate eyes snap onto Kevin’s, and he swallows. “...Uh-huh.”

Arnold gets up first and slinks down the aisle as best as his frame allows, towards the back of the plane. Kevin doesn’t wait and follows almost directly behind him, but takes a quick sweep of of the faces around them as they move. Luckily, those who are awake pay them no mind.

The vacuum roar of the open bathroom door is loud as Arnold enters, and it’s even more obnoxious once they’re both inside, pressed closely together, the door locked behind them. Kevin flattens himself against the door, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“We are going to be _so_ tired tomorrow,” he laughs, voice hushed just above a whisper.

The bathroom stall is large enough to accommodate them both with minor discomfort, but there still isn't room enough to turn around fully. So it’s lucky that they're face to flushed face. Kevin can see that Arnold is fidgety again, and that now he isn't the only one aroused enough for a hard-on.

“We should hurry up,” Arnold says, and his voice cracks like he's just turned 15.

There's no time for a response before Arnold's mouth is crashing sloppily against Kevin's again, and Kevin opens his mouth willingly; tries to be a model kisser, but the truth is that he's never kissed anyone - except for a girl named Claire on the cheek in first grade - and it's probable that Arnold actually has more experience in this field than him.

Arnold presses his tongue against Kevin's, and it's awfully slimy and feels strange. It tickles a little bit but ultimately does nothing to get Kevin in the mood for debauchery.

He pulls away to catch his breath, asks, “Have you and Nabulungi...done that?”

Arnold nods, dopey grin making his cheeks wide. “A few times.”

Kevin suddenly feels awful, as though he's just betrayed Nabulungi’s trust - the trust of the entire Ugandan people.

“Let's just…”

He needn't say more.

Arnold is closing the distance between their bodies, rubbing Kevin through his pants, and Kevin’s doing the same. They may only have preliminary experience with kissing, but they _are_ men after all, and they at least know how to stroke a cock.

Arnold seems desperate for oral gratification, and as Kevin actively won't kiss him back now, he's made himself busy placing hot, open-mouthed smacks to the side of Kevin's neck; his Adam’s apple; what he can reach of his collarbone. It feels good - _too_ good - and Kevin accepts again and again that he just might be going to hell someday.

Then, soon enough, his trembling hands are flying to Arnold's belt, resting there for a second before finally committing and unfastening the buckle. Arnold does the same to him, and Kevin feels dizzy; hopes he isn't getting motion sick now.

They pull each other's pants down just past their respective hips, and it's a bit of a tussle to do it: Arnold's elbow hits the sink twice and he grunts because the faucet is cold and scrapey. Kevin keeps falling against the door and he's terrified that it'll fling open somehow, or that someone out in the aisle will hear the thuds of his back hitting it.

He begins to undo the buttons of his collared shirt, with the intention of peeling his temple garments down to join his slacks resting loose at his hips. But Arnold laughs at him - an unrestrained laugh that Kevin has to shush him for - and says, “What’re you doing?”

He stops undressing and looks down to see Arnold passing a thumb over the clothed head of his cock - the tip is wet through the fabric. It’s almost too embarrassing to watch, but he’s entranced by the circular motions of it; how Arnold’s fingers move delicately to grip himself.

“Y-you’re sure this is okay?” Arnold sighs - more to himself than anything.

And Kevin hums affirmation; chews the center of his upper lip, and watches as Arnold pulls back fly flap of his bottoms. He releases himself, cock bared; hard and ready, straining to be touched.

“You don’t need to undress,” Arnold chuckles quietly, and he sounds more nervous now than Kevin’s ever heard him.

His hands make their way over to Kevin’s hips, slowly enough to be stopped if need be. He dips his fingers into Kevin’s fly and that first faint brush of fingertips to the underside of his cock makes Kevin intensely shiver; raises goosebumps all over his skin. Finally Arnold grips him and releases him from his bottoms.

“...There.”

Kevin flounders to gain control of the situation; licks his lips - his mouth is so _dry_ \- but he doesn’t know what to do or what to say. He feels like a fish out of water, with his mouth opening and closing in small, unsure gasps.

“Arnold--”

Hearing his first name tumble desperately from Kevin’s lips is all the encouragement Arnold needs to continue, plunging his face back into the crook of his friend’s neck, suckling and kissing at his soft, dewy skin.

He’s noisy. That’s one thing that Kevin notices right off the bat - _has_ known, under different circumstances, for two years now. Arnold hums and moans and coos into his neck with every press of his lips. It would almost be nice, if he wasn’t terrified of getting caught. Surely _someone_ would be noticing their absence from their seats soon.

What would that person’s first thought be?

Kevin’s hands leave his sides, instead trailing up either side of Arnold’s body; moving in to clutch at his partner’s chest, hands balling into fists, grabbing at the woolen fabric of Arnold’s garments. Although his body’s on fire - although to his chagrin he _wants_ to - Kevin can’t find it in himself to do anything more physical in return.

Arnold doesn’t seem to mind. He presses their hips together crudely and rocks his hips into Kevin’s. There’s a friction decent enough to make Kevin gasp out in surprise and push back against the weight at his groin.

It’s nice, but not enough. It may have been less agonizing if he’d just gone and jerked off by himself after all.

But then Arnold’s right hand is down there, stroking him firmly and quickly and Kevin’s hips shake. He pants, “Oh, oh, oh” through half-lidded eyes, and the bathroom is so loud and this feeling is so foreign and Kevin wonders if he’s losing his mind.

He feels dizzy, and he knows where all of the blood in his head has gone.

He feels bad that Arnold’s cock isn’t getting any attention…

“D-do you...want me to touch you?” Kevin tries.

Arnold pulls away from his resting place at Kevin’s neck, eyes big and bright; his lips are tinted a deeper red than before, but just as glossy as when they’d first decided to fool around. “Yeah!” he says.

It’s a bit of an awkward tryst, navigating his way down around Arnold’s gut and gripping a cock that isn’t his own - and upside down, no less. Arnold is girthy and warm, and Kevin almost kind of feels sick thinking about what he’s doing. But, God’s honest truth is that the sensation of feeling a hand that isn’t his own feels amazing, and he doesn’t care if it’s wrong.

He knows he’s bad at it - doesn’t know how Arnold is so _good_ at it - but still, his friend moans encouragingly up at the ceiling and bucks into Kevin’s hand.

“Harder,” Arnold huffs, eyes screwed shut tight.

The demand makes a blush crawl across Kevin’s cheeks; he feels hot all over and even the tips of his ears burn. He tightens his hand; tries to quicken the pace, but it just ends in failure. His wrist aches and he can’t shake the overwhelming feeling of letting the partner down. He can feel the sting of saltwater tears in the corners of his eyes, and when he tries to look down at Arnold, he’s a blur.

“Kev...Kevin, here, let me--”

Kevin’s own hot, sweaty hand is engulfed, then; covered by Arnold’s slightly larger one, his stubby fingers wrapped neatly around them both, holding their cocks together. Kevin lets his friend grip tightly, and although he feels useless like this - like he’s just there for support - he takes a lot of pride in the noises Arnold’s making now. His tiny gasps.

Arnold pumps them faster and rolls his hips in time to his hand. “Kevin,” he whines.

And Kevin clasps his free hand to his mouth, afraid of shouting out in profanities. It might just be because he’s never shared anything like this with another person, but-- it’s truly something _incredible_. Arnold’s staggered breathing makes it seem like he’s going to finish soon, and Kevin just might be getting there as well. He thrusts into Arnold’s hand; tries to tighten his own to see if it helps.

He can’t contain himself when Arnold suddenly swirls his thumb over the head of Kevin’s cock - just like he’d done to his own before they’d started - and Kevin wails, drooling into his palm, “ _Oh, God!_ ”

And then their bodies are stiffening against each other, Arnold practically crushing Kevin against the bathroom door as they come hotly across Arnold’s fist and their garment bottoms. Arnold continues to flick his wrist as Kevin draws his hand away, slowly, until he’s flinching from over sensitivity and Kevin is panting pathetically, whimpering “Stop, stop--”

The bathroom stall feels suffocatingly hot, and they both gasp deeply until they can catch a steady breath.

Arnold falls back against the opposite side of the stall from Kevin; grabs at some toilet paper to clean himself off lazily, and hands some to Kevin to do the same. There isn’t much to be done about what’s gotten on their garments, so they simply tuck themselves back in and do up their slacks like normal.

Everything from Uganda has to be laundered anyway.

Kevin washes his hands for maybe too long, and Arnold watches him with rosy cheeks and a cloudy mind. He’s sated, smiling, even says, “Thanks” while waiting for Kevin to finish up at the sink.

Kevin can’t comprehend what’s just come over him, so he simply says “No problem,” before he timidly opens the bathroom door and leaves.

When Arnold finds his seat in row 32, Kevin’s pretending to be asleep, and Arnold sits down and removes his complimentary felt blanket from its plastic wrapping with care. He throws it over himself; watches the twitch in Kevin’s eyelids and the blush grow on his cheeks when Arnold leans over to rest his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

He knows Kevin’s pretending, because his friend’s muscles tighten at the contact between them. Arnold scoffs under his breath, but he doesn’t think they have anything else to talk about tonight anyway - and it’s already way past their normal Lights Out time - so he just gives Kevin a final soft peck on the cheek, and lays his head back down.

And Kevin’s body relaxes.

“ _Goodnight, best friend_.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can always give me your thoughts in the comments below or message me @riachinko on Twitter or @rudigerblues on Tumblr ^o^


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